


Good Fences

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [52]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, Neighbors, klarolineauweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly moved in, and caught up in her unpacking, Caroline ignores the storm raging outside. Until the power goes out leaving her alone in the dark. She ventures out to meet her neighbors and finds one of them both accommodating and intriguing.</p>
<p>His name is Klaus, and she *thinks* he's nicer than he claims.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Fences

**Author's Note:**

> Written for klarolineauweek Day One. AU: All Human.

**Good Fences**

**(Prompt: AU + the electricity went out and I don't have candles au. Rated K+)**

Caroline hadn't thought much of that first rumble of thunder, the loud splatter of raindrops on the glass door of her balcony. She'd just moved in so it's not like she needed to _go_ anywhere. There were boxes everywhere (and some of the movers were _completely_ incompetent because she kept finding her _clearly_ labeled boxes in the wrong rooms).

The disorganization was driving her nuts.

She's startled by the first crack of lightening, jumps and clutches her chest. Glances around, like she expects someone to point and laugh. Living alone is going to take some getting used to. She wanders over to the windows to glance outside. Squinting down at the street below she can't make out much, the heavy rain leaves details obscure. There's the odd dot of a streetlight, but that's about it.

She shrugs, and goes back to work, arranging her kitchen cupboards. She'd stopped by a grocery store for some basics, ordered a pizza for dinner. But, if she actually wanted to be able to cook tomorrow, she still has some work to do.

The first flicker of the lights gives Caroline pause, leaves her holding her breath. She's just about to see if she can find the box with her emergency flashlight and candles in it when everything goes dark.

Yeah, she probably should have thought of that sooner.

Caroline freezes, peering into the darkness. She can make out the large shapes of her furniture, stacks of boxes, but that's about it. Taking a tentative step forward she immediately stubs her toe, letting out a curse and hopping for a moment.

"Great," she mutters, hobbling slightly. "Just great." She feels her way over to where she _thought_ the correct boxes were, digs around trying to recognize things by touch. But anything remotely candle shaped remains elusive.

She lets out a frustrated groan, setting aside the sixth box she's rummaged through. Caroline briefly considers calling it a night, and going to bed, but quickly dismisses that idea. She's way too grimy between moving boxes in the New Orleans heat and giving her new apartment a thorough scrub before unpacking.

No, a shower's a must, and tackling an unfamiliar bathroom in the dark seems like a terrible idea. There's no way Caroline is willing to spend her first night in a new city in the emergency room.

This leaves her with only one viable option – her neighbors.

It can't be that bad right? She was totally a people person.

Decision made Caroline puts her hands out, gingerly making her way to the door. The building had been quiet when she'd been moving in, people likely at work, so Caroline hadn't had the opportunity to meet anyone. She cross her fingers that whoever's door she ends up knocking on isn't completely terrible (and/or crazy), and that they had extra candles they were willing to lend her.

There's no answer at the first door she knocks at, the one right across the hall. Caroline edges her way down, until she feels another doorway. Knocks firmly, and waits for a moment.

It seems like she's in luck, because she hears movement immediately.

When the door's thrown open, and she sees the man holding a lantern on the other side, she kind of wishes she'd moved in the opposite direction. Because he's _serious_ eye candy, and she knows she looks awful. It makes sense, because who dresses to impress to unpack? No one that Caroline would be interested in hanging out with. She's wearing a ratty Whitmore tank, and an old pair of grey leggings. No makeup and her hair's pulled back in a ponytail that had gone limp and lifeless several hours ago.

So much for being lucky.

"Can I help you, love?" he asks curiously.

And her hot neighbor had a hot accent. Ugh, why couldn't she have met him when she looked cute?!

Caroline smiles brightly, shoving her sudden bout of self-consciousness aside, "I kind of hope so. I'm Caroline. I just moved in. I was trying to unpack, but I hadn't gotten to anything candle-ish yet, and the lights are out, so…"

"So you'd like to borrow some?" he continues understandingly, cutting off her ramble. Probably a good thing.

"If you have any to spare?"

He considers her for a long moment before answering. "Of course. Come on in." He steps back, opening the door wider. Caroline follows him, glancing around with interest. You could tell a lot about a guy from his apartment. She can't see much, but he seems to be pretty neat. And the couch looks super comfy. There's several small battery powered lanterns, like the one he carries, dotted around the living room. A book on the coffee table, a liquor bottle and a half full glass next to it. She eyes him carefully, but he doesn't _seem_ drunk.

"Do you do a lot of camping, or something?" she wonders.

He makes an amused noise, "No. I tend to stick to cities. But this building is old, and up until they redid the wiring last year, prone to outages."

"Huh," Caroline mutters, making a mental note to invest in a lantern or two of her own. "They didn't put _that_ in the ad."

A short chuckle and he throws her a smile over his shoulder, "No, they wouldn't would they? But, rest assured, that it's a rare occurrence these days. Only when Mother Nature is particularly temperamental."

He opens a drawer, pulls out a couple of batteries. He collects one of the lanterns and hands both items to her. "Here. Safer than candles and a bit more effective."

"Wow. Thank you. I really appreciate it," she tells him sincerely.

"Not a problem, sweetheart." He leans a little closer, growing conspiratorial, "Just keep this quiet, yeah? I've got a bit of a reputation as the big bad around here, and I'd like to keep it that way. Don't want everyone knocking on my door to borrow sugar, or tools, or any other random thing."

Caroline laughs, thinking he's joking, but his face tells her he's not. She sobers, brows furrowing, "Yeah, you're going to need to explain that one. Because you seem nice enough to me."

He shrugs, a hint of a smirk curling his lips, "Trust me, I am _not_. And nothing to explain. It's mostly a sanity saving measure. I'm not too fond of most of this building's occupants. And I like to avoid the obligatory party invites that float around."

"Are they that bad?" Caroline asks.

Klaus' expression remains poker-straight, "Let's see, there's the Salvatore brothers – one dreadfully dull, the other about the most self-important wanker you'll ever meet. He'll likely attempt to convince you to sleep with him. I'd advise you not to, because you may very well catch something. Though it is, of course, your decision. Katherine Pierce is catty and vicious, and prone to monopolizing the laundry room. There's Greta Martin, who's not a fan of other women, particularly attractive ones. Luke Parker, who I'm fairly certain is a drug dealer, and his sister, who hates everyone who she didn't share a womb with. And that's just our floor."

Caroline wrinkles her nose. "I really hope they're not that bad. Otherwise I'm going to seriously regret signing a lease. I reserve the right to make up my own mind."

"As you should," he agrees. "And I'll try not to take too much satisfaction out of telling you 'I told you so.'"

Caroline rolls her eyes, though she's a little amused, at his assured recital, "Hey ever thought that, if _you_ think everyone's terrible, it might not be _them_?"

He feigns a dramatic gasp, "Hurtful, sweetheart. When I've been so very neighborly."

Caroline shakes her head, shifting the lantern to the crook of her arm. This guy was definitely a little bit of a dick, but a charming one. And he could have slammed the door in her face, so he got points for that. She motions to the door, "I should get out of your hair. I'll drop all this off tomorrow."

"Find your candles first, love," he advises. "It's supposed to storm through the weekend."

"I'll do that. Thank you…" she trails off, hoping he'll get the hint, because she realizes that he hadn't given her his name.

Her mom would totally kill her if she ever found out about that one.

"Klaus," he supplies. "And you're welcome, Caroline."

He leads her to his door, surprises her by following her out into the hallway and to hers. He momentarily relieves her of her burden, so she can unlock the door. She smiles at him again, smooths the wisps of hair that have escaped the elastic, "I feel like I'm repeating myself a lot, but thanks."

He smiles back at her, warmer then she'd expect, from a guy who claimed not to be nice. Klaus lets his hands brush against hers when he hands the lantern back, and she'd be lying if she didn't feel a prickle of interest, wondered what a more deliberate touch would feel like. And she's not the only one, judging by the way Klaus' eyes linger on her face. "Welcome to the neighborhood, Caroline," he murmurs. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you."


End file.
